


Tattoos

by claroso



Series: The Clara Amell Story [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Tattoos, platonic friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 15:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20584862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claroso/pseuds/claroso
Summary: In which Clara and Alistair get matching Grey Warden tramp stamps....no, not really.





	Tattoos

"Oi, Zev!“ Alistair called out to him. 

Zevran looked up from the campfire, where he was doing his damnedest to make something to eat that didn’t have the taste and consistency of mud. He rushed over and sat down heavily, sweaty and out of breath from his practice skirmish with his fellow Grey Warden. He grimaced; the only thing that Fereldans lacked more than taste was a sense of smell. 

"So…” He said. “I’ve been thinking about those ink drawings, what do you call them? Tattoos? Are you… still willing to do one?”

“Oh-ho, you’ve decided to take the plunge, have you?” He smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "What is a little pain, am I right?“

"I’m not worried about that, I think they look interesting. Though, I want mine smaller. When can you do it?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Not so fast, my friend! There is an entire ritual to how this is done, don’t you know? First, I need to bathe you in a mixture of olives and rosewater.”

"You need to… bathe me?“ He gulped. "That seems odd.”

"No, no, no, not at all!“ Zevran replied, putting on his most sultry voice. "It needs to be worked into the skin, preparing it to receive the ink. The massage is quite pleasurable, do not worry. You’re in good hands.” He finished with a wink. 

Alistair gaped. “The m-m-massage? You’re having me on, aren’t you?”

"I might be, I might not be.“ He laughed. "Shall I describe the rest of the ritual to you?”

"Actually, on second thought I–“

"What are you torturing Alistair with now?” Clara interrupted from behind them.

"Me, torture our faithful knight?“ He gasped dramatically. "Perish the very thought, _mi amora_.”

She sat in between them, rolling her eyes. “Sure.”

"I was thinking about getting a tattoo.“ Alistair said, his shoulders slumping. ”_Was_. I’ve changed my mind now.“

"What, like Zev’s?” She wrinkled her nose. “Why?”

"_Braska_, woman, why do you hurt me so?“ He said over Alistair’s laughter. "I thought you liked my tattoos.”

"Ugh, no,“ She shook her head, "I meant they’d look different on his face than on yours.”

Alistair chuckled. “I would’ve gotten something else, like a mabari. Y'know, manlier than just a couple swirls.”

He gasped, fighting the smile on his lips as Clara chuckled. “Please, you wouldn’t know manly if it chopped your head off.”

She tilted her head, considering. "A mabari, though?“

"What wrong with that?”

"I don’t know, it’s just weird.“ She said. "What about the Grey Warden sigil? We could get matching ones!”

"What, really?“ Alistair exclaimed.

"Yeah, it’ll be fun.” She turned to Zevran. “So when can you do it?”

She was actually serious, he realized. Making Alistair was squirm with the thought of needles was enjoyable, but did she really trust him enough to let him tattoo her?

"Warden,“ He said hesitantly, "I have only had a little practice. It would not be very good.”

"So? Where would we find another tattoo person in Fereldan, anyway?“ She shrugged.

"Fair point.” Alistair chimed in. “I don’t think I’ve ever met one.”

"There you go. Whatever you can do will be fine.“ She said. "Alistair, you in?

"Alright.”

"Zev?“ They looked at him in anticipation, smiling.

"I…” His mouth curled up in an answering smile. “It will be a few weeks, I need to buy new inks.”

Their whoops of excitement stole through the dimming evening light. Zevran turned back to his cooking with a sudden warmth on his cheeks, which he could probably blame on the campfire.


End file.
